


60 Minute Man

by Munchy



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Arthur "I'm a complete virgin" Maxson, Cade is done with the Brotherhood's sexicapades, Confessions, Gentle Sex, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Oral Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Sex Pollen, This is all just very embarrassing for Arthur but also soft, Trans Male Character, Trans Man Preston Garvey, You all know what that title is for ;)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:40:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24782458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Munchy/pseuds/Munchy
Summary: He guides Preston through the miasma and fog. Maxson readjusts his grip as the other leans against him heavily, breath teasing against his neck as Preston drags his feet along. Arthur feels the heat of the fever intensify, making his own movements sluggish. His mind wanders to inappropriate places as he presses against the warmth of the other man, imagining skin against skin and wet kisses pressed on bruised lips.With startling clarity, Maxson comes to the horrific realization that he's hard . His cock pressing against the leather of his uniform.
Relationships: Preston Garvey/Arthur Maxson
Comments: 5
Kudos: 18





	60 Minute Man

**Author's Note:**

> This whole idea came about on one of the Fallout servers I'm in. As we were coming up with idea for some smutty prompts, a friend of mine, Cave Rat, posted a headcanon list of Fallout plants and what they would taste/smell like and what they're predominantly used for. They suggested that Fever Blossom could be used for sex chems and I just... couldn't get it out of my head. So here's some Sex Pollen smut. 
> 
> Big shout outs to the Simps for Preston Garvey server on discord for the idea and the encouragement to write the fic. Also shout outs to Subjectivelyfunctional for beta reading this fic! Thanks again!
> 
> As with most warnings attached to these fics, I should mention that the "sex pollen" doesn't make someone uncontrollable, but rather just makes them super horny. As for Preston, he's trans in this fic, and descriptors such as slick, slit, clit, and folds are used to describe his bits. So, if that makes you uncomfortable/dysphoric in anyway, please read with caution. 
> 
> Title comes from the song, "60 Minute Man", by Billy Ward and his Dominoes... because of course it would.

Maxson exits the vertibird as soon as it lands near the decrepit medical facility. His brothers and sisters along with groups of Minutemen rush around the blockades created by the raiders that once inhabited the building.

He spots a familiar face within the crowd and hails them over as he walks to the small command center that was set up, "Scribe Haylen, report."

The woman starts as the Elder calls for her and rushes to his side, "Sir, we've successfully eliminated the raiders on the main and upper floors of the facility. We're currently having small teams of Knights and Minutemen combing through the building for Colonel Garvey."

Maxson looks irritated, "You still haven't confirmed his location?"

"No, sir, but I'm getting reports that the facility is rather large and we're unsure if there are still pockets of raiders left within the building. The Minutemen General is reportedly still taking care of the topmost floors," Haylen hastily explains. 

Maxson sighs, "Very well. Is my power armor ready?"

Haylen hesitates, "Sir… The Proctors have expressed great reluctance in letting you onto the field, I don't think it's wise for you—"

"I am aware, Scribe, but that's not what I _asked_." Maxon's heavy glare falls on Haylen. His height on her adds to the strength of his presence, making her feel small.

Haylen backs down, seeing the almost desperate look in his eyes behind the usual frustration, "No, sir. Your T-60f power armor was strictly left on the Prydwen as ordered by Proctor Ingram."

She watches as Maxson's expression grows dark, "I see, I'll have to do without. Dismissed Scribe Haylen."

She tries to protest, "Sir, I don't think—"

"I said, _dismissed_ , Scribe," he says rather coldly before making his way towards the weapon caches. Haylen scurries off to find Danse or Rhys to see what in the world is going on.

* * *

It takes two hours and an escort Paladin, who _insists_ on following him around like a puppy, but Maxson finds Preston locked away on the lowest level of the facility. 

The basement has a strangely thick layer of smoke and mist hanging in the air. The maze of walls and equipment is indistinguishable through fog. The miasma that permeates the air smells of mints and orange-flavored mentats. Even more bizarre is the vegetation that covers the floor, rooting around the equipment and counters. A curious blue flower, glowing against the darkness, is haphazardly growing along the vines that sweep the room. The chem stations smell foul as usual, however, most of them appear to be boiling the flower down for… _Something_. Maxson really doesn't care to find out.

Whatever it is, the overwhelming scents and cloying fog are making him feverish.

The fog becomes enough of a distraction that the paladin following Maxson offers up his helmet. However, Maxson refuses, wanting to ensure the safety of his brother rather than risk both of them to whatever concoction these raiders were making. 

They finally begin to hear someone calling out for help. Maxson holds hope desperately in his heart as the cries lead to Garvey.

The Colonel looks haggard lying in the corner of an old supply closet, propped up against the wall. Bruising around his bottom lip and right temple that discolors his umber skin into a dark purple. His clothes look disheveled and his trusty hat is missing from his head. Worse, he's clutching at his left side, around his ribs. 

When Preston looks up, he manages a smile despite the action reopening the cut on his lip, "Elder Maxson. Didn't expect you to be here," he grunts, voice sounding like gravel under a boot.

Maxson kneels beside him, setting his laser rifle aside, "And why wouldn't I be? This is a joint rescue effort," his voice takes on a gentle tone as he checks up and down Preston's form, taking note of any injuries he hadn't spotted before. "What am I to do when the General of the Minutemen requests assistance in a hostage situation? Especially when it involves his second in command."

Preston manages a chuckle that makes Maxson's insides knot themselves into a tangled mess, and says in a teasing voice, "My hero."

Maxson feels the feverish heat from before grow, blushing his ears and face, "Yes, well, we _are_ allies after all," he coughs, "Now, let's get you out of this hell hole." He carefully gets his arm around Preston's shoulders and encourages the other to stand. 

Preston gets to his feet with a hiss, leaning heavily on his uninjured side. Maxson quickly steps in as the man almost tumbles back to the ground. Preston says his thanks as Maxson calls out to the Paladin just outside the supply closet.

"Paladin, go inform the medics we've found Colonel Garvey. Have them prepare a Vertibird to transport us back to the Prydwen for immediate medical attention."

His brother nods, and with a "Yes, sir." hurries out of the basement. The sound of his heavy footfalls echo through the basement. 

"Don't worry Garvey. Cade will take care of you," Maxson reassures Preston.

"What about the General?" Preston asks.

Maxson feels a pang of jealousy tug at his chest, but bites back any retort he might have, saying instead, "He'll be escorted to the Prydwen after we get you there first, you have my word."

He guides Preston through the miasma and fog. Maxson readjusts his grip as the other leans against him heavily, breath teasing against his neck as Preston drags his feet along. Arthur feels the heat of the fever intensify, making his own movements sluggish. His mind wanders to inappropriate places as he presses against the warmth of the other man, imagining skin against skin and wet kisses pressed on bruised lips.

With startling clarity, Maxson comes to the horrific realization that he's _hard_. His cock pressing against the leather of his uniform.

He hesitates for just a moment, heat traveling to his face as he internally berates himself on his abhorrent behavior. Preston doesn't seem to notice the anxious tension in Maxson's shoulders and trips as he tries to walk ahead. Arthur has enough sense to keep a good grip on him as Garvey almost hits his knees into the cement floor.

A small flower emits a blue glow below them. Preston falls close enough to it that the weak gleam highlights the contour of Preston's face, making the man look beautifully ethereal. Maxson shakes his head, stomping on his useless affections as he helps Preston back on his feet. Immediately after, the Colonel's legs buckle, sending him back to his knees. 

"Garvey! What's wrong?" Arthur frantically asks, keeping his hold on the other.

Preston blinks, his eyes dilating as he looks to Maxson, "I—I can't get back up. My legs won't move."

Maxson feels a tightness in his chest, his anxiety growing. With quick movements and a grunt, he lifts Preston up into his arms. Holding him close, Arthur breaks out into a jog, exiting the basement as fast as possible.

The medical team is on standby when Maxson emerges from the facility.

He ignores the General's frantic questions as he barks orders at the medic team. As quickly as they arrive outside, Arthur and Preston are loaded onto the Vertibird heading for the Prydwen. The General left cursing as they're lifted away.

Maxson's thoughts are on Garvey, watching the Medic Scribe check his vitals and perform basic first aid as the man lays on a stretcher. Preston looks peaceful, asleep.

It isn't long before he too, feels his eyes growing heavy. The fever under his skin growing hotter. He hears someone saying his name, but can’t reply.

His world is tilting and everything is going dark. The last thing he remembers is the voice of the medic calling his name becoming desperate.

* * *

Knight Captain Cade hears a grunt behind him and looks up from his microscope to see Elder Maxson rouse from his sleep.

"Elder Maxson," he greets, waiting for the young man to acknowledge him, "How do you feel?"

"Hot…" is all that Maxson can mutter.

"I would assume so. The chems those raiders were working on are made from a potent flower called fever blossom," he states, getting mild amusement watching Maxson struggle into a sitting position on the med table. Then, he feels the corner of his lips tug up when Maxson's eyes grow wide and his flushed face and chest grow tato red.

With a croak, the young man asks, "Cade… What the hell is going on?"

"Ah, I see you've finally noticed your erection," he teases.

" _Cade…_ " Maxson warns through gritted teeth, but the pitch of his voice and embarrassment makes any threat ineffective.

Cade turns in his chair to face the Elder, "I am a little concerned you've had it since before you came back onto the ship. Then again, this isn't the first time I've dealt with such an issue when it comes to sex chems," he watches Maxson hunch his shoulders, trying to process the information.

"A _what_ chem?" He finally asks.

" _Sex_ chem," Cade enunciates, pausing for effect as Maxson's face grows impossibly redder, "Though, I do believe some prefer the term _aphrodisiac_ ," he says with a roll of his eyes.

"I don't—"

"I'm going to be very blunt, Elder Maxson," Cade interrupts, waiting once again for Maxson's attention, "It appears that the raiders held up in that medical facility are mostly known for chems dealing. I've gotten reports from some of the Knights and Paladins doing patrols near Nuka World, that raiders there use fever blossoms to create potent drugs. One of these is a sex chem, and it looks like there's been some trading between these raider groups because the basement was full of chem stations boiling the plants down."

He observes the way Maxson swallows, avoiding Cade's eyes.

"You went down to the basement without power armor… didn't you?" He states rather than asks.

"Colonel Garvey—"

" _Colonel Garvey_ has been patched up and is currently in quarantine until the drugs in his system ware off, and the same will be happening to you," Cade interrupts again, "Now, I understand your feelings for the man, but to risk your own safety—"

Maxson sends him a glare. "Excuse me? My affections for Colonel Garvey are irrelevant here. And how did you even know that?" The embarrassment leaks into Maxson's voice, staring at the doctor with wide eyes.

"I didn't." Cade hears the Elder choke, coughing into his fist to clear his throat, "I just assumed due to the fact that you would never get personally involved in these matters. Nor risk your safety doing so."

"I've gotten involved in major operations before, and the current alliance with the Minutemen is incredibly important for our campaign." Maxson argues.

Cade leans in closer, adopting a more sympathetic tone, "The last time someone you deeply cared about got hurt, you went on a crusade against Shepard. It nearly killed you."

That seems to snap the Elder's mouth shut.

After a quiet pause, Cade continues, "Now, as I was saying, both you and Colonel Garvey inhaled a large dose of chems as neither of you were protected from the fumes." He makes a point to give Maxson a disapproving look, "Putting both of you at risk. Now, the two of you will be placed into quarantine, _separately_ , until the fever blossom is out of your systems." Cade looks at his charts then, relaying the information to Maxson, "We believe the drug should be completely gone in a day or two. The medical team will keep a close eye on both of you until then."

"I see," Cade watches as Maxson squirms on the examination table.

He sighs, "You will be able to relieve yourself within your personal quarters, they're not monitoring you _that_ closely, sir," he goes back to his microscope, analyzing more samples.

He hears a choked off squawk, "Knight Captain Cade!"

* * *

Arthur lays in his quarters, staring at the ceiling, trying in vain to ignore his hard on.

"This is ridiculous," he mutters aloud to himself. The shame souring his mood further. To think, a Maxson suffering from an affliction so preposterous. His ancestors must be rolling in their graves.

He turns onto his side, glaring at his battlecoat in the corner of the room, squashing thoughts about putting it on and barreling his way to the room Preston's been placed in. Cade and his quarantine orders be _damned_.

Imagines himself rushing in, seeing Garvey wither on his bed, begging for him. Grabbing hold of him and dragging him down on top of the covers and feeling Preston roll his hips against his.

Arthur's cock gives a slight twitch and he groans into his pillow from embarrassment. He feels the scorching heat of a blush travel from his chest to his ears as he buries his face further into his pillow. Shame licks at his throat as he swallows at nothing and slowly rubs the palm of his hand to his groin. 

He lets out a shaky groan, feeling his hips twitch, imagining his hand as Preston's thigh. His breath hitching as he spreads his legs just a little bit more, digging his feet into the mattress.

There's a sudden knock on his door, ripping Arthur from his fantasy with such panic that he can't keep the gasp that leaves his mouth as he gets to his knees on his bed.

He looks to the door, panting, feeling flustered, and hot. His pulse beating against his chest like a drum. The knocking comes again shortly after, and Arthur hurries off the bed. He walks to the door, rearranging himself, trying to get into his Elder Maxson headspace as best he can. He takes a breath, ignoring his obvious hard on and cracks the door open.

Standing there, equally flustered and wanting, is Preston.

Maxson reacts in surprise, eyes widening as he stares at the man, "Colonel Garvey?"

Preston gives him a tired smile. "Hey."

Arthur lets the door open more, "You're supposed to be in quarantine, is everything alright?"

Preston's dark brown eyes travel down and says, "I could ask you the same thing."

Maxson hears himself choke, "That's— I…"

Preston chuckles and it sends a shudder down Arthur's spine, "Can I come in?"

It's a bad idea. More than just bad really, but the way Preston looks—standing in the hallway with nothing but some spare boxer briefs and a t-shirt, a hungry look in his eyes; it leaves Maxson feeling cheated somehow.

He opens the door and lets Preston inside, ignoring the blush spreading across his face.

It isn't long after Arthur closes the door that he turns to find Preston looking at his table, picking up an empty bottle of scotch.

"I was hoping for a drink to calm myself down, but I must've been late." Preston looks up and Arthur avoids the heated look in the man's eyes.

"How did you get past the medic team? They're supposed to be monitoring—" he hesitates on the words, catches them in his throat, and spits out new ones, "the situation."

Preston hums and places the bottle down, "They've been dealing with the General for the past couple of hours, so they finally settled in for the night. It's two in the morning after all.” He walks over then and gently grabs Maxson's hand, making the young man look up, "We should talk."

"About?" Arthur asks as though he doesn't already know. A tightness forms in his chest as he feels the wonderful heat of Preston's hand in his. Manages to catch himself leaning into the other's space before pulling back.

Preston rolls his eyes, "About the _situation,"_ he says jokingly, then a little more serious, "About us."

Maxson feels himself pressing against his door, relishing in the cold steel at his back, "I— "

Preston moves into his space, the fever in his system ignites into a fire as they breathe the same air together, "I know you like me." The truth sending a shudder through Arthur's body.

Maxson can hear the click in his throat as he swallows. The heat on his face becomes unbearable as Preston leans closer.

"Perhaps," he says quietly, letting the confession settle between them. He can feel the heat coming from Preston's body, the fever affecting him just as much.

Maxson turns his face away, choking out, "We're both still under the effects of the fever blossom," he places his hand on the other's shoulder, "We need to get you back into quarantine—"

"And if I said I felt the same way?"

Arthur blinks at the man in front of him, "Excuse me?" He manages through a whisper.

"You can be an absolute ass at times Elder Maxson, but I've seen the way you've changed over the last few months and… well, fever or not, I've started to like you back," Preston confesses.

Arthur feels his chest deflate, releasing the breath he didn't even know he'd been holding and closes the gap between them.

Preston sighs as Arthur gently presses his lips to his, careful of the injury there. It's soft and hesitant, and yet still so heated as Maxson leans off the wall and places his hands on Preston's hips.

They pull apart for just a moment before kissing again, something a little more desperate, passionate. Preston sucks Arthur's bottom lip into his mouth, gently pulling on it. Arthur rewards him with a groan, their kisses growing more heated as he guides Preston to the table in the middle. 

Arthur presses against Preston's neck, relishing the heat there. He kisses the pulse, feeling it jump under his lips as Preston gasps. He does it again, and again until he's leaving a trail up the column of the older man's neck. 

His eagerness gets the better of him as his hips roll into Preston's, twitching on their own accord. Preston chuckles against his mouth and slips his hand under Maxson's shirt. 

There, fingers dance over his skin and muscle, hands running through thick hair at Arthur's midsection. Arthur can feel his hands and arms shake around Preston, suddenly overwhelmed by the heat. A nasty feeling of insecurity digs at him, a big man like Maxson trembling at just a simple touch, it's pathetic.

He knows Preston can feel the tightness of his muscles, the uneasy way he holds himself. Arthur bites his lip as he looks up to find Preston looking worriedly at him.

"Have you done this before?" Preston asks him. 

The sound of Arthur swallowing fills the space between them. He can feel the shame crawl up his throat and color his face. His eyes avoid the other like a stingwing getting ready to pounce.

It's enough of an answer.

Arthur turns his head away but quickly feels the warmth of Preston's hands gently cupping his face and turning him back, "Hey… we'll take it slow, okay?"

The tension in Arthur's shoulders drains away, letting them sag, and he leans in to kiss the older man in gratitude. Preston gently licks his way into Arthur's eager mouth, not being able to catch the whimper that leaves him. 

Carefully, Preston leans away from the table, smiling at him and tugging at the shirt he wears. He sees the delight in Preston's face at the blush that rises from Arthur's neck to his ears once he gets the idea. Tearing his shirt away in haste, he feels the tap of his holotags hitting his chest, the chain making small clicks as it settles. Once the shirt is tossed aside, Arthur can't help but preen at the long gaze Preston drags across his body. At least he can be confident in this.

Soon, hands are back on his skin, warm and sure as they sweep across his collar bone, his back, his stomach making him shiver. A thumb grazes his nipple and Arthur’s breath hitches, red coloring his cheeks. Preston chuckles in his ear and repeats the motion, kissing Arthur’s pulse as it jumps with each stroke of his thumb. 

Overwhelming heat builds in his abdomen as Preston gently palms him through his boxer briefs, feeling the way his cock twitches at the contact. Arthur rolls his hips against Preston’s hand, seeking relief with a groan. A flush colors his face the more he’s riled up, being toyed with. 

He thinks two can play that game, and grazes his fingers along the hem of Preston's shirt, silently asking permission. Preston takes the hint and steps back and tugs the garment over his head, fully baring his chest to the other. Arthur’s eyes catch at the bandages wrapped around the older's torso, protecting his ribs. 

He gently runs his fingers against the tightly wrapped linen and asks, "Are you sure you're okay?" Arthur can't help the concern that bleeds out of him, the tightness in his chest at how much he wants the other to just _be okay and happy_. He’s felt this way before, but it had been so long ago, he almost forgot what it was like loving someone this much.

Garvey is going to be the end of him.

Preston smiles fondly, catching Arthur's hand in his own, stroking his thumb against the younger's knuckles to comfort him, "I'll be fine,” he reassures, “You Brotherhood guys sure know how to patch a guy up. Haven't felt any discomfort since getting rolled into the med bay."

Arthur returns the smile with one of his own, feeling a little proud of hearing that. 

"Good," he says and leans in to kiss the other gently. He takes his other hand and trails his palm across Preston's abdomen, feeling the slight tremble there. He trails wet kisses across Preston's collarbone while he runs his fingers up and behind, pulling Preston against him. The surge of heat from finally getting chest to chest, lights a fire between them that quickly consumes the younger.

Then the heat is suddenly gone as Preston goes down on his knees and Arthur is left breathless at the sight. 

Preston looks up at him with a sultry expression, "Is this okay?" He asks as his hands grip at Arthur's hips and flicks his thumbs at the waistband of the younger's briefs.

Arthur swallows against the sudden dryness of his throat. He nods rather dumbly, not knowing if he can even form the words for how much he wants this.

Preston smiles at him and carefully slides down Arthur's briefs until they hit the floor. And with eager haste, Arthur kicks them away. He catches the hungry look in Preston's eyes as he stares at Arthur, fully bare in front of him.

The younger's cock juts out, hard and flushed, already dripping precum. Arthur grips it at the base, but Preston gently smacks his hands away. Soon, his hand is replaced by the other's, slowly pumping him. 

Arthur lets loose a groan deep in his chest. It's a new sensation, being touched like this, but Preston seems to know exactly what to do to get him to whimper. 

Every once in a while, he would twist his wrist on the upstroke, sending a shudder down Arthur's back. His knees nearly buckled as he felt wet heat engulf him shortly after. He managed to grasp the table in a white knuckle grip as he caught the sight of Preston licking at the head of his cock. Arthur chokes on a moan as the older man leaves a wet trail from tip to base, following a large vein. He knows his legs are trembling, trying to keep standing, but the way Preston grips his hips somehow manages to keep him upright. 

His arms begin to shake as Preston leans forward and takes the rest of his cock into his mouth. Bobbing his head slowly, Preston takes him all the way to the nestle of hair at the base, nose brushing against tight curls. Arthur gasps as he feels Preston's throat flex around the head of his cock.

“I— Shit, oh god!” Arthur lets slip. His release startled out of him so suddenly he almost panics. Pressing his head against the cool table, he slowly comes back to himself, but quickly becomes embarrassed soon after. He may not be as experienced in these matters but he at least understood basic damn etiquette.

He stands straight, looking down with an apology on his tongue, only to see Preston’s flush face smiling up at him with the telltale sign of release sticking to his chest. Preston's hand still holds Maxson's cock while the other is between his thighs, rubbing circles beneath his drawers.

A flush spreads across Arthur’s face as Preston circles the underside of his cockhead teasingly, matching the motion of his own fingers.

"Normally you're supposed to warn a guy," Preston says rather breathlessly as he continues to play with himself.

Arthur feels that shame hit him hard, the apology stuck in his throat, "I'm— "

Preston chuckles, "It's okay Arthur, I didn't mind. In fact, it was more than okay," Arthur feels a tightness in his chest at how Preston said his name in that sultry tone. He watches the way Preston's eyes flutter close and how his breath hitches as his hand dips further into his briefs, "Loved the way your face looked," Preston says under his breath.

Arthur feels his cock give a twitch as Preston continues to tease him, it's almost enough to drive him mad. In the back of his mind, he wonders how he's still hard, but he barely pays attention to it as Preston bits his bottom lip. At a low moan, Arthur takes Preston's wrist, stopping the other and helps the man up onto his feet. He presses the older man against the edge of the table and kisses him with a sloppiness that's both eager and impatient.

Arthur feels Preston shift, hands sliding his briefs down past his thighs, and Arthur can't help the way his hips buck forward. His cock slips between Preston's legs, so close to the other's heat, feeling the slick practically drip onto him. 

Arthur makes a gut-punching sound that turns into a growl, and cants his hips against Preston again, just wanting to feel the contact of skin. 

Arthur feels the fever turn into an inferno, as Preston chuckles at his eagerness. He guides Preston across the room, almost tripping as they try to stay as close as possible, bumping into the bed and tumbling into sheets and blankets.

Preston lays there, bare before Arthur, and the young Elder finds that he suddenly doesn't know what to do with all the skin he's just been presented with. His mind is so sluggish to catch up as he sits up and admires the man before him. He wants to say, “Your beautiful,” but the words never leave his lips, too distracted by the way Preston levels him with a heated gaze. 

So instead, he leans back down and hides his face. Kisses burn down Preston's body as Arthur balances himself on top. He feels a rush of nervous embarrassment as he gently places his hands on Preston's thighs, keeping his fingers flat against the skin, desperate to grip and spread, but refraining. He looks anywhere but up, shame, and desire warring in him as he tries to form the words he wants to say.

He stutters to ask, "I— Can— " he feels the way the words get stuck in his throat. So unlike the way, he speaks to his brothers and sisters, or to the elders on the west coast, unsure and afraid. He instead brings a hand and brushes his fingers to Preston's clit, begging silently.

Preston gasps and cards his hands through Arthur's hair, "Are you sure?" Preston asks above him, "you don't have to."

Arthur finds himself looking up despite the overwhelming want he feels, hoping that Preston understands how thankful he is to have him. He instead says, "I want to."

He watches the way Preston smiles fondly down at him, the warmth in his eyes building a confidence Arthur hasn’t felt since the night began. He catches Preston's knees sliding up the bed, spreading his legs. There's a gentle tug on his hair that makes his breath hitch. It almost becomes too much and he presses his head against the older's stomach, letting a hand grip the sheets knuckle white, hiding himself with burning kisses just below the bandages.

He continues kissing and nipping a trail from Preston's stomach, to his hip, to his inner thighs, letting his beard scratch against the skin along the way. Arthur hears the sighs and moans as his mouth travels closer to the slick heat between the other's legs.

He presses his fingers against the clit, gently making small circle motions, trying to mimic the way Preston had done it earlier. He feels the older arch his back with a stuttered moan, and he watches reverently as Preston's face shifts into pleasure.

A hand joins his own, guiding his finger lower, dragging slick across his palm. Preston presses his hand, pushing two of Arthur's fingers into him all the way to the knuckle. Arthur takes a trembling breath, afraid to let it go as he looks back up to Preston with wide eyes. 

Preston stares back, eyes half-lidded and mouth parted into a smile, "Go ahead," he encourages, pushing Arthur's hand. 

He takes the hint and with a new heat burning his chest and face, Arthur slowly begins moving his hand, pumping his fingers in and out of Preston. He hears his own breath hitch as he feels slick drip out of the older.

Suddenly, Preston's hand gently pushes against Arthur's knuckles, "Right there, curl up," he says breathlessly, panting out the words in a rush. Arthur does as he's told and curls his two fingers up as he pushes in, and watches in awe as Preston's body twitches like a current going through it. 

Preston snaps his head back with a moan before dipping his chin forward onto his chest with a deep hum, "Hmm there, oh god—" His body twitches again, back arching high as Arthur drags his fingers back and forth, hitting the spot that makes Preston practically melt for him. Arthur leans forward, bending over the other and plants kisses against his face and lips. Feeling the groan leave Preston's mouth as he increases his pace.

More slick gushes onto Arthur's hand as he slowly adds a third finger, his thumb brushing against Preston's clit. Preston moves his hand away, gripping the sheets tightly as he rolls his hips to the uncoordinated rhythm of Arthur's fingers.

"Ah— fuck, right there. Faster! So good!" Preston moans, tugging at Arthur's hair, sending a shudder through the younger. He bucks his hips, rubbing his cock against Preston's thigh as he spreads his fingers slowly. 

Arthur hears Preston cry out as he feels hot slick coat his palm. Preston's body constricts against his fingers as the older man's body suddenly goes taught like a bowstring. Arthur leaves wet kisses, sucking a mark into Preston's neck as he gently pulls out of him. Panting, Preston curls his legs around Arthur's hips and pets his hair. Arthur hums deeply at the contact, his hips twitching against the other.

A whimper escapes his throat as a warm hand grasps his cock, teasing along the shaft. Arthur looks up to find Preston with hooded eyes and parted lips, expression content as he drags the head of Arthur’s cock along his folds. His thoughts stutter to a halt and his body shudders at the slick dripping there. With a burning desire that seems to take control, Arthur ducks his head under Preston’s chin and grinds forward, letting the other guide him without complaint. 

Arthur slides into scorching, tight heat that leaves his fingers digging into the sheets, turning his knuckles white. He feels more than hears the way Preston moans as it rumbles up his throat, and Arthur finds his voice matching the pitch with his own shaky groan. Preston’s thighs squeeze against his sides, encouraging Arthur to move, but his body refuses, much too preoccupied with the engulfing heat that threatens to swallow him whole.

Instead, Arthur leaves a trail of kisses down the column of Preston’s neck, nipping at the pulse point and feeling Preston’s breath hitch. He finally relaxes his hands, feeling them tremble as he brings them to Preston’s sides, feeling warm skin against his palm, feeling the way the other man withers below him. Fingers grip into his hair and fingers dig into his back, Preston growls in frustration, bucking his hips up, driving Arthur impossibly deeper. He hisses at how Preston stretches around him, only for it to turn into a moan when the other repeats the movement with a desperate, needy sound that drives Arthur mad.

Finally, Arthur moves, wrapping an arm around Preston’s shoulders, while the other hand grips at the man’s hip. He thrusts forward with an unsure rhythm that speaks of his inexperience, yet Preston moves with him, circling his hips and bucking up as though to correct him. Encourage him. 

Arthur keeps his face buried against the man’s neck, biting his lip as Preston drags his blunt nails over his back, leaving behind red trails in their wake. Soon, Arthur detaches himself from Preston’s wonderful warmth and leans up to spread him open, hooking a hand under one of Preston’s knees. 

Arthur looks down at the man, taking a moment to watch Preston tremble with pleasure, become enraptured by it. He wants to say, “You’re beautiful,” but he can’t get the words out, he’s struck by the fiery gaze that Preston throws at him then. So, instead, he thrusts deeper, slowing down and watching the man below him bite his lip and arch his back.

Preston’s back arches at a hard thrust and Arthur can’t help but do it again, wanting to see the way Preston’s head snaps back and his voice calls out to him. Arthur grips at Preston’s hips, digging his fingers into flesh as his thrusts grow harder. He closes his eyes and hears the way Preston’s breath stutters with each pump of his hips, drawing out moans that grow louder and louder. 

He grows more confident in his movements, hearing his own voice pitch with every buck of his hips and Preston’s breathless praises. He selfishly wants more, and in a desperate jerk of his hand, his fingers go to Preston’s clit and begin circling it just as he did before. The reedy whine he receives fill his head with cotton, as though hypnotized by the other’s pleasure filled cries.

Arthur feels a tug at his neck suddenly and looks to find Preston gripping at his holotags, slowly dragging Arthur back to him with lust filled eyes. And Arthur can’t stop the way he nearly collapses onto the man, his rhythm becoming uncoordinated and desperate. Preston’s lips meet his with a vicious satisfaction brought on by teeth and hands. Arthur hears himself moaning, not knowing how to stop but not really caring. 

And then, almost like a piece of twine stretched to its limit, he snaps. With a deep rumble from his chest, he cries out, body jerking forward as he comes. He can feel Preston's body shudder below him, Arthur’s fingers still circling, pushing him over the edge. Preston goes taught suddenly, a shaky moan leaving his mouth as he grows impossibly tight around Arthur, squeezing him for all he’s got. 

Arthur’s body puddles above the other man, muscles finally letting go of all the built up tension, and Preston does much the same, seemingly unmindful of Arthur’s bulk turning into a dead weight on top of him. They’re left panting, the heat that engulfed him before is only a flicker now, the inferno satisfied. 

Arthur, still in a hazy state, manages to piece together the reason Preston begins squirming and carefully pulls out of him. At Preston’s hiss of discomfort, he hazily kisses what skin he can as an apology. He pulls Preston close, nuzzling his temple like a needy puppy. He hears Preston chuckle, sounding both tired but sated, while a hand cards through Arthur’s hair, making the other hum in content. 

They don't say a word to each other after, choosing to bask in the comfort the other provides. It isn't long after that Arthur feels himself drifting off, wrapping himself around Preston and keeping him close, clinging to the man like a lifeline. 

* * *

Sharp banging from the door is what manages to wake Preston up. He sits up with a groggy gracefulness only people half-asleep manage to pull off. Arthur’s room is mercifully dark but rather cold and Preston has half a mind to just lay back down and engulf himself back into Arthur’s warmth.

He has enough perception to at least hear the knocking become a little more desperate as it distantly echoes around the metal walls. He hears a grumble come from next to him and find Arthur is still fast asleep, looking rather peaceful for once.

“Elder Maxson? Please wake up, sir. We have a situation.” Preston vaguely recognizes the woman’s voice but can’t yet place it, still too tired to really care.

Just as he starts wiping the sleep from his eyes the door flings open and Scribe Haylen stands there looking panicked. When her eyes fall on Preston, her expression morphs into shock, like she’s been electrocuted. Preston starts at Haylen’s intrusion and tugs on the sheet as though it could shield him from any danger.

Eyes wide and mouth parted, Haylen remains silent as she stares at him. Preston does much the same, feeling the heat of embarrassment crawling up his neck and face.

He manages a cough before croaking out, “Morning…”

The silence that follows is mercifully broken when a second figure appears at the doorway. A tired looking Cade glances into the room and lays his eyes on Preston as well. Preston tugs on the sheet again and draws in a breath to rush out an apology or an explanation but Cade beats him to it.

"Ah, I see you've located Colonel Garvey, Scribe Haylen. Good work. I suppose we should tell the General and the other Proctors to call off the search then?" He says as though asking Preston rather than the Scribe, who continues her wide-eyed stare at the two figures in the bed.

Preston hears the click in his throat as he swallows and nods slowly. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he wonders what the General is going to think about this mess. Or the Brotherhood for that matter.

Cade nods curtly and says, “Meet me in the medical ward later today, we’ll need to perform some further examinations,” and walks out of sight.

A moment passes where Haylen remains at the entrance looking just as struck by Preston's presence as she had before. Then with a voice sounding like shattering glass, she yells, "Excuse me! My apologies! I didn't see _anything!_ " And slams the door shut with a panic that doesn’t suit the normally unshaken medic Scribe.

"Oh, God…" Preston groans softly as he rubs his forehead. His thoughts run wild as the embarrassment passes slowly, leaving him anxious about facing the rest of the day.

He feels an arm wrap around him then, warm and insistent as it drags Preston back down onto the bed. Arthur’s sleepy mumblings are barely heard as Preston plops down onto a pillow, but it doesn’t matter what Arthur said because the man glues himself against Preston’s form in a protective embrace. Preston looks and finds a peacefully sleeping Arthur, undisturbed and unaware by Cade and Haylen’s short visit. 

Preston can't help but chuckle quietly as he brushes Arthur's hair out of his face. They'll figure this out later when they have more time to themselves. Right now though, another fifteen minutes or so won't hurt. 


End file.
